


Sam's hurt, Dean patches him up,

by Winchestergirlie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comforting Dean, Drunk Sammy, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchestergirlie/pseuds/Winchestergirlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets hurt during a hunt, Dean patches him up. Sex follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam's hurt, Dean patches him up,

**Author's Note:**

> Dean gets turned on by the sounds Sam make while he patches up his wound. Drunk, giggling Sam, hot sex.

They were driving fast, to get away from the small town where they’d just burn the remains of a vengeful spirit. Dean was pissed off, screaming at Sam. “Damn it Sammy, you could’ve gotten seriously injured! What the fuck were you thinking!” he scolded, as he pressed the gas pedal even further towards the floor. “’M sorry Dean, was just trying to protect you,” he said, pressing his hand to his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding from the cut there. “It’s not so bad, just a cut,” Sam continued, knowing that they would have to stop soon. The cut was deep, and he was going to have to stitch it up, to stop the bleeding. Dean used the arm of his shirt to wipe his face, to remove some of the dirt there. He was muddy from top to toe, after digging up the grave in the pouring rain. He was mumbling about his darling Baby getting’ all muddy from their clothes and boots, and bitched about having to clean the upholstery the next day. 

“Dean, we have to find somewhere to stop. I need to stitch up this cut, it won’t stop bleeding. And it hurts like hell,” Sam says after they had been driving for an hour. “God damn it, Sammy! Are you bleeding all over my Baby??!” Dean yells, but looks worried. They’re in the middle of nowhere, far from any town, and Dean starts looking for somewhere to stop.  
After about half an hour they see an old abandoned farm, and Dean drives up to the house. It’s still raining heavily, and he grabs their bags and the first aid kit from the trunk, and runs for the door. “Come on, Sammy, let’s get you stitched up,” he yells. Sam gets out of the car, and makes his way into the old house. It smells like dust and old furniture, but at least it’s dry, and by the look of the big fireplace, it’s possible to get some heat going to, if they can find some firewood. “Here Sammy, sit down, I’ll go look for something to burn, and get some water to clean your wound. 

Sam sits down in the old sofa, dust surrounding him as he sits. He carefully removes his jacket and shirt to get a look at the gushing wound on his shoulder. It’s deep, and definitely needs stitching. Dean comes back with firewood, and gets a fire started in the fireplace. He goes out again, comes back in with a casserole, three bottles of water and a bottle of whiskey from the car. 

“Man, that’s bad, needs stitches. Can you do it yourself, or shall I do it?” Dean asks. “I think you’ll have to do it Dean, it’s my right shoulder, and I’m not that good sewing with my left hand.” ”Okay then, drink some of the whiskey while I boil the water to clean you up with,” Dean mutters. Sam drinks straight from the bottle, big gulps to get ready for the pain of sewing together his skin, while Dean boils the water over the fire. 

“Okay, ready Sammy?” Dean says, pulling needle and thread from the first aid kit. “Ready as I’ll ever be", Sam answers, gulping down some more whiskey. Dean helps him pull off his t-shirt, then gently cleans the wound with hot water. He dries off the blood, then rips a piece of a towel from his bag, to give Sam something to bite down at while he was sewing the wound, because it would hurt like hell. Sam bit down on the piece of cloth, gripping hard around the pillows of the couch, as Dean pushed the needle through his skin. Sam whimpers, shaking from the pain, blood running down is arm. “’M sorry, Sammy, know it hurts,” Dean mumbles, handing Sam the bottle of whiskey to drink some more. Sam drinks, big gulps, until Dean takes it away from him, and drinks some himself. “Just get on with it Dean, gonna hurt no matter what you do. Just do it fast”, Sam says. Dean braces himself, and starts sewing again. Sam groans and whimpers, biting down on the piece of towel. He turns against Dean, gripping his hip with his left hand, leaning his head against Deans stomach. Dean shifts, cleares his throat, before continuing. It takes some time, it’s a long cut, and Sam whimper and moan against his stomach the whole time. Dean finally finishes, pours some of the whiskey over the wound to sterilize it, making Sam scream and press his face into Deans stomach. Dean groans, and pushes Sam away. “Man up, you wimp,” he growls to Sam, before covering the wound with a bandage. 

He quickly cleans up the mess they made, and tells Sam he’s going out to the car to look for something to eat. When he reaches the car, he leans against the frame, shaking his head, gripping his hard-on through his jeans. “What the hell is wrong with me,” he thinks, “getting a hard-on sewing up my brothers arm, listening to the noises he makes when he is in pain! Fuck!” He scrambles through the backseat, finding a bag of chips, some apples, a pack of cookies and to chocolate-bars. “Yatzee,” he says, grinning as he makes his way back inside. “Look, Sammy, food,” he says, holding up his findings. Sam giggles, looking at the things Dean is holding. “That’s not food Dean,” he says, giggling again. Dean looks at the bottle of whiskey, which now only barely contains a third of its contents. “Sammy, are you drunk?” he says, watching his little brother half lying on the couch, bare-chested, giggling like a school girl. “Yeah,” he says, sitting up, looking at Dean through half-lidded eyes. “C’mere Dean”, he says, reaching out his hand. Dean walks closer, taking Sam’s hand. “What, Sammy?” he says. Sam grips Deans hips, pulls him closer, nosing Deans crotch. “I know you’re horny,” Sam mumbles. “Don’t understand how you get turned on by sewing my arm”, he continues, unbuckling Dean’s belt and opening his pants, “but I know you, can see when you’re turned on, Dee”. Sam pulls Deans pants down, licking a stripe against his half-hard cock, making it twitch. 

Dean groans, drops the food on the floor, and thread his fingers into Sams hair. “I’m sorry Sammy, don’t get turned on by your pain, but your beautiful noises. God, you sounded like when we fuck Sam, got me so wound up.” Dean moans as Sam grips his cock, taking the head of it into his mouth, sucking lightly. He bobs his head, taking Dean further and further into his mouth, making happy little noises as he suckles on his cock. Dean pulls at his hair, pushing his cock even further in, head nudging at the back of Sams throat. Dean fucks Sam’s mouth, moaning and panting at the feeling of that slick, warm mouth. Sam reaches down, fumbling at his own pants, opening them up to get at his own cock. Dean looks at his little brother, so beautiful, lips swollen and slick with spit and precome, blush in his cheeks, his eyes shining with love and affection. 

Dean pulls out of Sams mouth, taking his hands, pulling him up for a kiss. Sam leans in for the kiss, Dean can taste himself in Sams mouth, and moans into the kiss. Sam is all hands, stroking Deans back, his hips, pulling him close, grinding their cocks together. “Fuck Dean, need you,” Sam whines against his mouth. “Shh Sammy, gonna take good care of you baby brother,” Dean says as he strokes Sams big cock. “Gonna make you feel so good.” He pushes Sam back against the couch, making him sit down. Dean quickly takes off his pants and shirt, and kneels in front of Sam, pulling his pants off. He sits there for a while, just looking at his gorgeous brother, all tanned skin and muscles, and Sam giggles again. “You look like a love-struck teenage girl,” he says, then throws his head back laughing. Dean swears, leans forward and licks a stripe up Sam’s stomach and chest, biting a nipple, twisting the other. Sam’s laugh suddenly transforms into a long moan. Dean kisses his way down Sam’s chest again, biting lightly, sucking small marks as he gets closer to Sam’s crotch. He licks the head of Sam’s cock, tasting the precome, pushing into the slit. Sam shivers, and groans, grasping at Deans short hair. Dean takes his cock into his mouth, sucking and licking, whirling his tongue around the head. He then flattens his tongue, letting Sam’s cock slide to the back of his throat. Sam groans, putting his big hands around Dean’s head, and fucks into his mouth, short, fast jerks, moaning and shivering as he goes. “Oh fuck, Dean. That mouth of yours is gonna kill me one day.” Sam stills, looking down at his brother, so beautiful, lushy lips stretched around his cock, large eyes filled with tears from Sam fucking his mouth. 

Sam growls, pulls Dean to his feet, flips him round, and pushes him towards the wall. Dean’s body slams into the wall, Sam pushes up against his back, growling again. “Gonna fuck you Dean, pound your gorgeous ass,” he says, and then he smacks Deans ass hard. He smacks Dean’s ass over and over again, leaving his skin red, radiating heat. Dean moans, clawing against the wall. Sam presses his cock against Dean’s ass, groaning as he feels the warm skin. He puts his fingers into Dean’s mouth, growling: “suck my fingers Dean, gonna open you for my cock. Dean moans around his fingers, then sucks and licks, wetting Sam’s fingers. Sam pull them out, and pushes one finger into deans hole, carefully at first, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. He quickly adds another finger, pushing them in slow at first, then faster and faster. Adding a third finger, Dean is pushing back, fucking himself on his brother’s fingers, moaning, whimpering, swearing. 

At the sight of Dean fucking himself on his fingers, Sam groans, gripping his own cock, stroking fast and hard. Then he pulls his fingers out, turns Dean around, and reaches for the bag, wanting to find the lube. He has to be inside Dean now. Dean stops him, saying: “No lube, want to feel this Sammy”. Sam groan, as Dean gets on his knees again, taking Sam’s cock into his mouth, slicking it with his saliva. 

Sam pulls Dean up, slams him into the wall again, pushes up against him. He bends, then lifts Dean’s legs up, pulling them around his waist, pinning Dean against the wall. Dean moans, getting so turned on by his little brother manhandling him like this. Sam grips his cock, finds Deans hole, and pushes in hard, making Dean whimper. He pushes Dean against the wall, spreads his legs to take the weight of Dean, and starts pounding his ass hard and fast, hitting Deans prostate every time. “Oh, fuck Sammy, that’s it, fuck me hard,” he cries, as his back slams into the wall again and again. His cock is trapped between their bodies, sliding against Sam’s stomach, in a mix of sweat and precome. Sam’s hips stutter, his jerks becoming erratic, and he growls against Dean’s neck. “Gonna come now Dean”, he says, gripping his ass hard, pumping a few times, then slamming into him, hard, filling him with come, biting down on his neck. Dean whines, still hard, desperate for release. Sam slips out of him, puts him down, flips him around so he’s facing the wall again. He takes Deans cock in his hand, pumping it fast, then pushes three fingers back in his ass, fucking him hard, while fisting his cock. It only takes a few strokes, and then Dean is coming, painting the wall with come. His knees buckle and slam into the wall. He would have fallen, but Sam holds him up until he manages to stand on his own feet again.  
They stand there for a while, just holding each other, stroking and kissing. Then they notice that it’s cold, and starts looking for some clean clothes in their bags, Sam giggling, still half drunk. They get dressed, puts some more wood on the fire, then looks for blankets to keep them warm. 

They find some dusty blankets in a closet, and Dean goes outside to shake the dust off them while Sam shakes the sofa cushions to remove some dust. Dean sits down on the sofa, Sam slumping down, laying his head in Dean’s lap, and Dean covers him with the blankets. “How’s your shoulder Sammy,” he asks. “Dunno, might have ripped some of the stitches. You can patch me up again tomorrow,” he says, making himself comfortable on the couch. “Come lie besides me,” he says to Dean, “Wanna cuddle”. Dean lifts Sam’s head, moves and lies down next to his brother. Sam pulls him close, spoons him, enveloping him in his long arms and large body, heat radiating off him. “So tired, Dean, wanna sleep now,” he mumbles into Deans ear. Dean wiggles a bit, then closes his eyes, enjoying being held. “Love you baby boy,” he says. “Love you to Dean, so much.” Then they drift off into sleep, listening to the fire and each other’s breath.


End file.
